sololoquy | (no subject)

[ His mood is, though, as it turns out. The levity sapped away by the unfortunate implications of his clarification, Rey's smile dwindles and finally dies as she turns away from him and stares out instead over the ocean. ]

Oh.

[ There's no masking her disappointment. She'd thought there was no way he could be referring to that because, well, they both wanted each other, didn't they? It should simple things up. ]

It feels a little hazy at the end. [ Fortunately the escalation of her reaction to his touch had been steep enough that she didn't think she'd lost anything, exactly. But the memories had that wobbly surreal quality that the wedding had, and she'd lost parts of it, so maybe. ] I'm sorry if I did something that you didn't want.

[He's so incredibly good at this.]

You didn't.

[That kind of comes out before he has a chance to think about the implications of it, and when he realizes the implications, he has to pause before continuing his statement. Oh boy. Challenges.]

--but you were drugged. Your judgement was impaired.

[That's--probably fine to point out???]

[ Cool relief washes over her. But that means she has to parse out what he means but is struggling to articulate. She looks up at him again, searching his face. Digging through this statement of fact for what he's actually implying.

Obviously that was a problem. She'd asked him to knock her out for exactly that reason — alright, not that reason. More the concern that she wouldn't remember than that she'd do something she didn't want to do. But obviously he was more focused on the latter. Which meant —

Oh, this idiot.

She pushes away from the wall and turns to face him more fully. He'd said it was nothing he didn't want. Using that to drown out the doubts she feels, she reaches out to grab him by the front of his tunic and pull him down enough so that she can get on her toes and kiss him again. It's going to assert what she feels she needs to say much more clearly than any effort to actually articulate it. ]

[Oh.

Initially, he presses further to the wall out of instinct, like he is expecting retribution for his comments -- but then she grabs his tunic, and he clearly remembers what had followed that motion the last time. So when her lips press to his, he is more ready for it than he's been in the past.

He has to bend some, even with her on her toes, and so his hands come off the wall in preparation to brace himself so that he doesn't end up falling on top of her, but it turns out not to be necessary. As a result, his hands just sort of -- hover there.

Kylo Ren relaxes some once he accepts that the kiss is Happening, and that whatever heavy stuff they had talked about previously hadn't actually locked him out of contact with her. And that is when his hands finally fall to her waist.]

[ Kylo "Hover Hands" Ren leaves her in the lurch for a moment there, more hesitant than he'd been the night previous. But when his hands come to rest on her waist, she realizes she can't blame him for that. She'd let it get to that point without warning him that she'd been drugged when she knew it full and well, and it had clearly left him uneasy about how he should handle her advances when there was no clear way to tell.

He'd done fine, though. Exactly what he should have done. One of her hands strays to touch the side of his face, her thumb tracing the steep curve of his jaw. The air is warm with morning sunshine and the ambient ocean sounds soothe her. They're not cramped in some suffocating room in Drakstaden, fleeing the rain and themselves. They're in a paradise. Out in the open.

It's good. This is going to be good. Her lips part briefly, deepening the kiss for a moment before she draws back. She doesn't let it get as heated as it had the night before. ]

I would have made the same choice.

[ She looks up at him, searching his face. ]

[There's something...comforting(?) about the way she curls her hand around his jaw, a softness he hadn't known he'd enjoy in any meaningful way. But there's no expectation of this gesture, despite its intimacy. She'll never know how much he'll come to appreciate that.

She pulls back, but his hands stay where they are, his grip growing a bit more confident and possessive when he thinks that she might keep pulling back. Instead, she validates his choice -- which wasn't so much a choice as a fulfillment of her request.

He does that very well. Taking orders. Usually.]

I know.

[There's something in his tone that suggests he wouldn't have ever imagined differently -- that he's confused why she would feel the need to clarify.]

[ The solid grip he keeps on her is sturdy and reassuring. She feels protected, wanted, in a way that she scarcely has before.

Before running into him, she'd been fine on her own. Fine here defined as coarsely drawing herself to climax in a bathroom stall in order to stagger her way through the remainder of her evening shying away from touching anyone and snapping at anyone who stood still long enough because her clothes felt like a prison.

So no, she hadn't needed him. But he'd made it better. Taken care of her. That's what she has been looking for.

The confusion she can feel in him, the big silence hanging off the end of his sentence waiting for significance, makes her realize that he's misapplied her admission. This was what she'd tried to kiss him to sidestep — clarification. Words. ]

Not that. I mean that I don't have to be drugged to want you, Ben. And ... [ A heat creeps up her neck. But she's gotten used to just putting this out there in the past few days. ] I wanted to remember it.

[She just throws that out there and he doesn't really know what to do with that ball but fumble it brilliantly.

Its a combination of sheer force of will and hesitation that keeps his hands where they are. Where heat creeps up her neck, his skin gains a rosy tint all at the base of his neck, at the high points of his cheek bones, and the tip of his nose.

She wanted to remember it. Was that normal? That applied a lot of sudden pressure to the entire thing -- that thing he'd been considering in private for long stretches of time before putting it out of his mind.

Was that why she'd come to him so quickly? He opens his mouth, and then closes it again. When did she get so forward? Does she not realize--?]

...good.

[How does he tell her, a man several years her senior, that he'd never really been this close to anyone before? That the night they both nearly drowned one another, he'd been running on pure adrenaline and instinct, and there was a ninety percent chance he was going to biff the whole thing anyway?

The answer: he doesn't, because he's way too self conscious for that. Instead, out of instinct, he reaches for the dark where he knows his confidence lies. After all, he's already confessed -- there was nothing left to do but lean into it, even if it was only a bit. And on the other side of that wall that he reaches through, he finds the hunger that he'd been forced to bury from the night before.

So rather than verbally attempt to reciprocate, he takes a leaf out of her book and moves one hand from her waist up to her hair, which he proceeds to comb through his large fingers. Whether or not she wants him right this second, he wants to take away the ambiguity that he's shoved in between them for the past few months.

He pulls back enough to force her to tilt her head upward so that he can resume the kiss she had halted.]

[ She draws a sharp, soft breath at the way her scalp stings when he tugs on her hair, and as a result, her lips are parted already when his mouth finds hers. It just toes the line of domineering — and it's a toss-up as to whether that's simply because he doesn't know how else to operate or because he actually wants it to be.

The intent doesn't seem to matter much to her. A pleasant warmth floods her, an answer to the almost-pain of his grip as she cranes her neck for him, and she works her arms up around his shoulders to pull him closer. This is everything her journey of self-examination has affirmed: there's a possessiveness about his desire for her, something unrestrained. As much as he'd like to hold it at bay, it wins. Every time. And the result is this ferocity.

It chases away whatever lingering uncertainties she might have had about this, about him, about whether he even wants her. Obviously he does.

Responding in kind, she tugs her teeth against his lower lip, all eagerness and aggression but no caution. She feels a little like she's scrambling, too eager for the approval of doing this right to slow down and make sure she is.

And like, logistically she has ideas of What Comes Next — many ideas, actually, thanks ROSIE and Poe and Lucas — but this is around the time that she's realizing all she has is instinct and spunk to get her there. Not only to get her there in the first place, in fact, but to figure out when to get there. And if he wants to go there; like what if this isn't an 'alright let's do it right here outside the facility' kiss but instead more like a 'good understand that I want that too at some ambiguous future date' kiss? She doesn't know.

So she does the only reasonable thing she can do and just

stomps down all those negative thoughts that are like hey Rey what if you exercised your logic brain and instead focuses on just doing what feels good. And right now, wrapping her arms around him and devouring his mouth like a starved animal feels good. ]

[Its a little public -- definitely too public for Kylo Ren's liking and comfort, but the world has melted away in light of what he's chasing. His back is to the facility wall, but before long he realizes that it doesn't belong there -- he is too tall to be bracing himself there for what he's doing right now.

So when they have to break to breathe, Kylo Ren grabs for her waist again and pivots, pressing her into the wall and holding her there for a long moment while he searches her eyes and her expression. And here is where the hesitation comes. Looking down at her, lightly flushed from the lack of air, doubt worms its way into his gut. He also wants to do this right -- but they are out in the open.

Is he being too rough with her? He doesn't think so -- he's certain that she could handle getting thrown around a little. But is that what she wants? She'd always seemed so eager for soft affirmations, but that was never him. He isn't even sure where to start.

But more importantly, they are right next to a door, and if someone walks through it and interrupts them, Kylo couldn't promise that he wouldn't murder them. Instantly.

So he tries words. They come out quiet, forced, and awkward. Like he is tangentially aware that he's about to ruin the momentum.]

--my room isn't...safe.

[He still doesn't trust Lynn.]

[ Poe's voice pierces the haze of hunger to remind her that sometimes the moment's just gone and you can't get it back. Which is weird, actually? Because Poe didn't say that to her out loud. That was a text message. She shoves his warnings away. They're not losing the moment. They're suspending the moment.

And it's a really good moment. She leans back against the wall, breath coming out in hard pants, eyes slightly out of focus as she takes a moment to grapple with what he's saying and loosen her grip on him. Like, she'd been getting ready to climb him like a tree again. It was right there, about to happen, but—

He wants to go somewhere. Okay. Okay, so it's definitely an 'alright let's do it right here outside the facility' kiss except for like all of that. Mainly the parts about right here and outside. Her lips are slightly bruised, her hair mussed. Even if they find a better place now, anyone who sees them is going to have a strong idea of what they're doing. But they don't need to worry about that anymore.

She tries to replay his concerns. His room. Not safe. One problem at a time, and that's one she can handle. ]

Mine is.

[ Even if Curtis was there, he was understanding. He'd disappear for …

How long was this supposed to take? Like her masturbation habits tell her three minutes but her hormones are saying 'let's ruin each other for three days straight.' ]

Or the construction areas. There's a sign up to keep people out of the holo-deck.

[ Literally neither option sounds that romantic but her next suggestion was going to be the jungle so this is what we're left with. ]

What’s closer?

[He says it like he’s rushing to get it out, like they’re conspiring together for some kind of espionage bullshit instead if just trying to find some place where Kylo won’t kill someone who wasn’t just in the wrong place at the wrong time. His hands slide down and off of her, bracing against the wall impatiently while he rests her forehead against his own. Anything to keep some kind of contact (but not too much. Not yet.)]

[ The question makes her smile. That single-minded focus has never been directed at pursuing this intimacy between them — if anything, he'd always worked to pull himself away from it. But at every turn he leaves no question as to how much he wants this.

Her hands seek out the seam of his tunic along his ribs. The material is thick and coarse and intrusive, but she can feel his warmth through it. And there's something soothing in the way her palms coast up and down his sides. ]

The holo-deck.

[He nods an affirmative and he has to swallow down the urge to pursue her again. He is slowly coming to terms with how much he wants this, and it is enough to frighten him mildly. Like it might go away if he doesn’t act fast enough. Did he even know where the holodeck was?? He is pretty sure he doesn’t.

Luckily, he is Force-bonded to someone who does.

He reaches for the information as he leans down and grabs for her again. Does she want to just. Walk there? His instinct says to pick her up and drag her — look at this barely there restraint. Last time he tried to pick her up and take her somewhere, he got an unwanted guest.

So he just sort of lets his arms drop and moves aside.]

[ She picks up briefly on his intent, starts to lean into it, then realizes — oh, no. No he's exercising that thing called self-restraint. Wow. What would it be like to have so much of that sometimes and, like, zero at others? (Still more than she has.)

Alright now she's realizing that Ghost Poe in her brain maybe had a point. Because just … walking to the holo-deck is enough time for a cool-down from that stirring moment. She pushes it away again before the worry can seed. No. It doesn't take much for her to want this, and she can still feel it radiating off of him.

Rey grabs his hand and tugs him inside, leading the way through the common area full of lounge space and over towards the narrow hallway that leads into the area where the bulk of the construction is taking place. ]

[Powerful light, powerful darkness.

Rey has nothing to be concerned about, as far as a cool-down goes. In fact, the longer the walk takes, the itchier and more impatient Kylo seems to get.

The second they are around the corner and out of view, Kylo flips his grip to grab her wrist and push her into the nearest wall, pinning one wrist above her head. There's only a momentary pause where an apology belongs, because he doesn't know how to be any other way. The moment had caught him by surprise in Drakstaden, and while that had easily been a more natural position for him -- it feels like he has something to prove today.

And then he leans down to pick up right where they had left off, open mouth headed straight for her's and his other hand hooking around her belt. He might not have any idea what he's doing or where he's going, but he's on his way.]

[ The suddenness with which he overtakes her catches Rey off guard. Her own frayed desire mutes her focus on the Force, on his intent, and she draws in a shaky breath as he pins her. She had used every tool in her scavenger's toolbox to crack and pry this door, and now that it's open, she's stunned and overwhelmed with what comes rushing out.

They're not even through the door to the holo-deck. It's just a corridor with some loose panels and a warning sign, tucked just out of sight from the common area. Acutely, Rey recognizes that she's had this fantasy before. Barely out of view, trying not to be found — but then, they'd been hiding. They're not hiding anymore.

She groans into his mouth, and at first she just uses her free hand to grab a fistful of his collar and pull him in, to manhandle him as he steers her, but he's got the right idea. All these clothes are just in the way and she wants to feel his skin. So instead she smooths her palm down his chest to the belt of his tunic and pulls it free, dropping it to the floor while hers comes open in his hand.

She steps on the heel of her boot like she expects it to come off and yanks because there's no getting out of her pants without getting her shoes off, but —

It doesn't come free. She breaks the kiss to look down and remembers that she doesn't

wear the same boots she'd worn for ages on Jakku and groans. Suddenly, Allura's dresses make sense. Every karking one of them.

Around this time, somewhere in the back of her mind is Lucas telling her that first times should really be gentle and all of those sweet things but. She doesn't want sweet. She wants rough and desperate. She's never felt more wanted than she does in this moment with Ben trying his damndest to devour her, and she's not going to pass that up. ]

[She breaks the kiss and it messes with his momentum, in spite of the fact that the echo of their belts dropping to the ground is still sounding in his ear. For a moment, he is stunned and struggling to remember what he was doing, and chooses to redirect his frustration to her actions.

His other hand goes for her wrist, and he pins that one high with the first.]

Leave them.

[They could come back to them later. SHE STOPPED KISSING HIM WONDERING WHERE HER KNOCK OFF UGGS WERE. So the second he can reach her again, he goes back to trying to devour her, in spite of the fact that he can feel his neck straining.

With the belt out of the way, he can get to the rest. His hand is big enough to hold both of her wrists if she doesn't struggle, so that's what he does. The free one wanders to her waist to undo the wrap there before he moves to her tunic.

--does he have to pull this damned thing over her head???]

Edited 2018-06-19 01:05 (UTC)

[ On the one hand some part of her wants to snap back at him not to boss her around but then her lizard brain's like no, you like it. And she does. Pinned there up against the wall, staring up at him, she really, really likes it. Heat creeps up her throat, and she feels keenly aware of the coarse fabric of her clothes, how it chafes against her sensitive skin but isn't quite enough.

She whines against his lips, something needy and appreciative as her thighs clench in anticipation. Okay. Okay, she's going to let him steer. She focuses on the clack of teeth and bruising lips and — No. No she's not. He's taking too long and seems confused about how to get her sash off.

It's fine. She hadn't worn it in Drakstaden really, it's not like he'd seen the process here. It happens. This probably happens to everyone like at least once.

So she unfortunately decides she has to struggle after all. She breaks her hands free and shoves and his shoulders some to get herself room and she just pulls the sash off her shoulders. It pools around her in a really obvious way. Like a big loop. It's fine. He would have gotten there. Eventually.

And doing it this way, she strips off her tunic shirt too, exposing the tanned muscle of her abdomen and the too sharp protrusions of bone in her hips and ribs and clavicle. Bare for him but for the single band wrapped around her small breasts and the gauze wraps that line her arms. The air should feel cold, but her whole body feels like it's burning up. She can't strip down fast enough.

She grabs a fistful of his hair to pull him back in but kisses his jawline instead of his mouth, all tongue and teeth. ]

[The speed at which she removes everything and leaves him with just her abs stuns him momentarily. Its not like he hasn't seen her topless before, but there's something about her taking control back from him that turns him into a deer in headlights. Her hand ties itself in his hair and drags him downward again, and he's caught in half an in inhale when her teeth find his neck. His pulse stutters and his hover hands fall to the sharp bones of her hips.

He drags her as close as he can, pressing her into the wall again. He knows that, in theory, the rest of their clothes are going to get out of the way at some point. But he...doesn't know how to get to that point, especially not with her chewing on him like this. The harder she bites, the more of his neck that he exposes for her.

Already, he can feel a bruise threatening to form beneath her tongue, and his fingertips dig desperately into her hips. His face has begun to turn red, hair sticking to the light sweat on his brow.]

[ The most dizzying part of this, arguably, is the way the bond pulls like taffy and hums between them, caught in the steady buzz of contact. She's more attuned to him than ever, perceiving his surprise and his arousal alike emanating off of him like something tangible, as real as his hands on her hips. He's going to leave bruises. Marks that will pronounce her his for anyone who sees them.

She hums her approval into the hollow of his throat and reaches with both hands to start tugging at his tunic, trying to figure out how it comes off. ]

Off.

[ As she draws back to tell him that, she examines her handiwork, a dark red spot against his pale skin. She's marked him too. Her tongue darts out to savor the taste of the salt from his skin on her bruised lips. ]

[Kylo Ren feels her pull back and he chases her, until he realizes that he has nowhere else to go. His forehead rests against the wall, releasing a heavy breath he hadn't realized he was holding. He's vaguely aware of people walking around the corner into the lounge on the other side of the wall.

Off. Its a word that rings inside his skull that snaps him back to reality, and he scrambles to comply. His fingers uncurl from her and he reaches up to his neck to undo the clasps there, and down his chest until the tunic opens -- it is tight in his shoulders, and he leaves it there without bothering to struggle out of it. He's more interested in getting back to her.

Unfortunately, Kylo struggles to get his hands back on her now that he's trapped in his armor. Before long, he's snarling with frustration, reaching for her and turning over his wrists to show her the zippers there.

He did it backwards. Whoops.]

Please.

[ His tunic opens and her hands search out his bare chest, tracing the pattern of scars there, examining the dips of muscle like she's been starved of this specific moment for weeks now and — Oh. Unhappy noise. She looks back up at his face, spots the snarl, and she's surprised to find her heart jumps in her chest not with nervousness but with anticipation. It's feral and honest and unhindered and she wants more of that sound.

At least until she spots his issue. She huffs out a breath and starts unzipping him to deal with the complicated mess of his tunic. Both of them are fired for their inconvenient fashion choices at this point, but at least they're equally frustrated by them.

Once she gets his zippers open, she goes for her boots after all, yanking the zippers down to toss those aside because they're gonna be a problem soon too. ]

[She succeeds in peeling him free and he shakes the whole mess off to the floor. The gloves come with it, leaving him in only his pants and his boots. He doesn't bother with his own boots, as Rey's are off by the time he manages to unearth himself from his tunic.

Once the cold air hits his skin, he becomes acutely aware of how uncomfortable he is with his pants still on. There's nothing to hide his arousal now that the tunic is not there to shield him. They're really doing this -- he feels himself starting to freeze with the realization of it.

He needs her hands back on his body, to pull that feeling back before it flees from him.]

Rey...

[His hands move back to her waist is still bent, smoothing up to the thin scrap of fabric still covering her breasts. He wants to rip it, and the thought bounces across the bond briefly -- but another sound down the hallway reminds him that there are others close by, and he doesn't want to share this with anyone else.

So he is more careful running the pads of his fingers under the swell of her breasts.]

[ Rey straightens when his hands find her skin, the bare skin-to-skin contact feeding the fire that's roaring in her veins before it has the chance to die down to a flickering ember. She catches his gaze, eager to glimpse his flushed face, more eager to take it in once she feels that intent. It's like nothing she's felt before, having someone else's warmth mapping across her skin, teasing the underside of her breasts. She whimpers, soft but insistent. ]

Do it.

[ She reaches up to cover one of his hands with hers, to push it further up to cover her breast. It's a symbolic gesture more than anything else because it denies her of the direct skin-to-skin contact that she's been feeding on, but she wants that aggression. Doesn't want him holding himself back for fear of getting caught.

Surely in a place like this, they'd just figure out what was happening and move right along, after all. Wetting her lips frantically, she adds softly but emphatically, ]

Please.

[ A whole sentence already feels like too much, and it's only on the heels of her plea that she realizes how close she is to just babbling desperate eager nonsense at him in hushed tones. Her thoughts are circling the same hungry thought: Mine. With a frantic companion: take me, make me yours. ]

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YES <span style="font-family: times; font-size:40px; color:#33cc33;">✓</span>	NO <span style="font-family: times; font-size:40px; color:#CC0000;">✕</span>